“Of all the times we could have come to the Lorekeepers, we decide to show up while theirheadquartersburns to the ground.”
Smoke and flame engulfed the former university as laborers of the Milwaukee Lorekeepers attempted to extinguish the spreading fire by mounding barricades of dirt between the inferno and Curtin Hall. Given the situation of general chaos, Floyd decided the group made out pretty decently in their exchange for the coveted journal after all. The siblings hadn’t received anywhere near the fortune of credits that he andElizahad anticipated, but Lawrence convinced him that their reward, a handful ofsolar calculators and relic electrictoasters, as well as a steam powered jump pack, would sell for a substantial price at the market.
Floyd equipped the bounce pack, but upon receiving it his initial thought was, “Great, what the Hell are we supposed to do with this thing, pick apples?” Eliza was confident that the right buyer would come along. He and Eliza could then remodel their home to better withstand the elements of the approaching winter, as well as pay Lawrence their accumulated debt for his assistance on the journey. Like a true Lorekeeper, Saul refused any form of payment for his role in delivering the journal, acceptance into the order of the Lorekeepers, whom he so admired, was payment enough.
Lawrence, Floyd, and Eliza walked outside with their gadgets, escorted by three Lorekeepers armed with muskets. They planned to say goodbye to Saul who had been sent out to his first task and was busy adding to the mound of dirt with ashovel in hand and sweat on his brow. Their goodbyes were cut short by the sight of Tim, who was flanked by threeTrailvyne militiamen at either side.
Seven men stood with muskets ready on one side of the cloud, and seven more stood on the other. Dirt, smoke, and ash billowed between them in an old fashioned Hellwaukee standoff.
“It’s nice to see you Lawrence,” said Tim. The venom in his voice belied his words.
“Tim,” said Lawrence, with a nod of his head, acknowledging the man whom had wronged him at every opportunity. Lawrence now wished more than ever that he had killed him when he had the chance a couple of hours earlier when Tim was lying unconscious next to Sofia and the overturnedhalf-track.
“You killed Sofia,” said Tim.
“She was alive when we left her. If she’s dead then it must your fault,” said Lawrence. “You should be thanking me for only taking your wallet and not your life.”
“You have something that belongs to us,” said Tim. His henchman smirked and patted their rifles in anticipation.
“And what might that be?” asked Lawrence, tossing the emptied wallet half way the distance to its owner. “You’ve already taken my wealth and my trade. What more could you possibly want from me?”
“Don’t act sly Lawrence. That tongue of yours won’t save you this time. We know about the journal you possess. We know why you’ve come to the Lorekeepers.”
“The journal? Well, then it shouldn’t surprise you to find out that you’re a little late, Tim. It belongs to the Lorekeepers now. Sorry, pal. Say, Tim, want a toaster?” As he said this Lawrence fired his 9mmhandgun at Tim’s head but missed entirely. Lawrence then took cover behind a nearby dirt mound as bullets chased his every step.
Saul, who had remained unnoticed by the Trailvyne group, flanked the Trailvyne thugs and shot at Tim with a handgun. His shot was better aimed than Lawrence’s but not fatal. The bullet grazed the shoulder of one of the Trailvyne thugs to Tim’s left, bringing him to his knees.
Floyd didn’t wait for the Trailvyners to retaliate and he chucked his knife at the heart of Tim, who was alert enough to dodge the attack at the last moment. The thug to his right wasn’t nearly as swift. Eliza threw herhatchet, in unison with the throw of her brothers’ knife. The blade dropped low of her mark and instead of lodging itself deep within his midsection, it sliced off a substantial chunk of the guards’ foot.
The thugs opened fire. One Lorekeeper went down. Another Lorekeeper, who had been watching from the sidelines charged from behind the dirt pile and was dropped as soon as his motive was sensed, preventing any further intervention from the rabble of Lorekeepers who had been gathered near, but now scattered.
Floyd traced his fingers over the control panel of the bounce pack and before he could talk himself out of it he drew his sword. With the press of a single button he was launched into the air. The jaws of Trailvyne and Lorekeeper alike hung open as the giant man let forth a raged battle cry, holding the sword with both hands high above his head. Floyd cleaved down upon the shoulder of Tim’s gun arm and sliced the limb clean off his body in one smooth motion.
For a moment, Tim was speechless. He stood staring at his arm, lying on the ground, still grasping the gun. The shock wore off and his nerves flared. Tim fell and writhed as blood spilled from his shoulder. Having seen their leader defeated, the guards displayed their loyalty by retreating in every direction, not wanting to taste the sting of the one-eyed flying giant samurai’s cutlass.
Lawrence gathered himself and took his time as he approached Tim, who was convulsing in pain. Smoke and blood filled Tim’s lungs as he attempted to gargle out an apology to Lawrence, whose only reply was to lift his gun and press the barrel between Tim’s eyes.
“Hasta la vista,” said Lawrence. He paused for a moment, then added, “Oh yeah Tim, I also slept with your wife.”
No witness argued over the execution of Tim. In a way, it seemed humane after what Floyd had done to him.
“I think I’d like to keep the steam pack,” Floyd said to Eliza.
“What a world,” thought Floyd.
“Of all the times we could have come to the Lorekeepers, we decide to show up while their headquartersburns to the ground.”
Smoke and flame engulfed the former university as laborers of the Milwaukee Lorekeepers attempted to extinguish the spreading fire by mounding barricades of dirt between the inferno and Curtin Hall. Given the situation of general chaos, Floyd decided the group made out pretty decently in their exchange for the coveted journal after all. The siblings hadn’t received anywhere near the fortune of credits that he and Elizahad anticipated, but Lawrence convinced him that their reward, a handful of solar calculators and relic electric toasters, as well as a steam powered jump pack, would sell for a substantial price at the market.
Floyd equipped the bounce pack, but upon receiving it his initial thought was, “Great, what the Hell are we supposed to do with this thing, pick apples?” Eliza was confident that the right buyer would come along. He and Eliza could then remodel their home to better withstand the elements of the approaching winter, as well as pay Lawrence their accumulated debt for his assistance on the journey. Like a true Lorekeeper, Saul refused any form of payment for his role in delivering the journal, acceptance into the order of the Lorekeepers, whom he so admired, was payment enough.
Lawrence, Floyd, and Eliza walked outside with their gadgets, escorted by three Lorekeepers armed with muskets. They planned to say goodbye to Saul who had been sent out to his first task and was busy adding to the mound of dirt with a shovel in hand and sweat on his brow. Their goodbyes were cut short by the sight of Tim, who was flanked by three Trailvyne militiamen at either side.
Seven men stood with muskets ready on one side of the cloud, and seven more stood on the other. Dirt, smoke, and ash billowed between them in an old fashioned Hellwaukee standoff.
“It’s nice to see you Lawrence,” said Tim. The venom in his voice belied his words.
“Tim,” said Lawrence, with a nod of his head, acknowledging the man whom had wronged him at every opportunity. Lawrence now wished more than ever that he had killed him when he had the chance a couple of hours earlier when Tim was lying unconscious next to Sofia and the overturned half-track.
“You killed Sofia,” said Tim.
“She was alive when we left her. If she’s dead then it must your fault,” said Lawrence. “You should be thanking me for only taking your wallet and not your life.”
“You have something that belongs to us,” said Tim. His henchman smirked and patted their rifles in anticipation.
“And what might that be?” asked Lawrence, tossing the emptied wallet half way the distance to its owner. “You’ve already taken my wealth and my trade. What more could you possibly want from me?”
“Don’t act sly Lawrence. That tongue of yours won’t save you this time. We know about the journal you possess. We know why you’ve come to the Lorekeepers.”
“The journal? Well, then it shouldn’t surprise you to find out that you’re a little late, Tim. It belongs to the Lorekeepers now. Sorry, pal. Say, Tim, want a toaster?” As he said this Lawrence fired his 9mmhandgun at Tim’s head but missed entirely. Lawrence then took cover behind a nearby dirt mound as bullets chased his every step.
Saul, who had remained unnoticed by the Trailvyne group, flanked the Trailvyne thugs and shot at Tim with a handgun. His shot was better aimed than Lawrence’s but not fatal. The bullet grazed the shoulder of one of the Trailvyne thugs to Tim’s left, bringing him to his knees.
Floyd didn’t wait for the Trailvyners to retaliate and he chucked his knife at the heart of Tim, who was alert enough to dodge the attack at the last moment. The thug to his right wasn’t nearly as swift. Eliza threw her hatchet, in unison with the throw of her brothers’ knife. The blade dropped low of her mark and instead of lodging itself deep within his midsection, it sliced off a substantial chunk of the guards’ foot.
The thugs opened fire. One Lorekeeper went down. Another Lorekeeper, who had been watching from the sidelines charged from behind the dirt pile and was dropped as soon as his motive was sensed, preventing any further intervention from the rabble of Lorekeepers who had been gathered near, but now scattered.
Floyd traced his fingers over the control panel of the bounce pack and before he could talk himself out of it he drew his sword. With the press of a single button he was launched into the air. The jaws of Trailvyne and Lorekeeper alike hung open as the giant man let forth a raged battle cry, holding the sword with both hands high above his head. Floyd cleaved down upon the shoulder of Tim’s gun arm and sliced the limb clean off his body in one smooth motion.
For a moment, Tim was speechless. He stood staring at his arm, lying on the ground, still grasping the gun. The shock wore off and his nerves flared. Tim fell and writhed as blood spilled from his shoulder. Having seen their leader defeated, the guards displayed their loyalty by retreating in every direction, not wanting to taste the sting of the one-eyed flying giant samurai’s cutlass.
Lawrence gathered himself and took his time as he approached Tim, who was convulsing in pain. Smoke and blood filled Tim’s lungs as he attempted to gargle out an apology to Lawrence, whose only reply was to lift his gun and press the barrel between Tim’s eyes.
“Hasta la vista,” said Lawrence. He paused for a moment, then added, “Oh yeah Tim, I also slept with your wife.”
No witness argued over the execution of Tim. In a way, it seemed humane after what Floyd had done to him.
“I think I’d like to keep the steam pack,” Floyd said to Eliza.